


Come Together, Fall Apart

by aldiara



Category: Romeos (2011)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Bring Back The Porn Challenge, Dysphoria, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Talking, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldiara/pseuds/aldiara
Summary: It was difficult to be all noble when the guy you were trying to give space to settled right into that space and started humping you.Continuation from the final scene of the movie (not the end credits footage).
Relationships: Lukas/Fabio
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10
Collections: Bring Back The Porn Challenge





	Come Together, Fall Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bring Back the Porn 2020. I must have at least one obscure fandom per BBTP, apparently. Here's a [trailer for the movie](https://youtu.be/6_VnY9LItJA) if you want a visual. (I generally recommend it, though it does contain some transphobic arseholery. The central romance is refreshingly real.) Massive thanks to [omarandjohnny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omarandjohnny) for the last-minute beta job!

**

Fabio was nervous, and also really fucking horny. The latter was – well, to be expected. He was naked, in bed with a hot guy he’d been fancying the pants off for bloody weeks, and he hadn’t even gotten off except with his own hand in said weeks, because apparently his dick had decided now _feelings_ were a thing and it wasn’t just going to go for any random fuck.

So yeah. Horny was par for the course.

Nervous, though? Nervous was a little weird. Fabio didn’t do nervous. 

It didn’t help that he could feel anxiety running through Lukas, too, a restless, underlying thrum that seemed to transfer itself through every kiss and touch, creating its own hypertensive feedback loop. 

Still, Lukas kept kissing him, almost defiantly: deep, hungry kisses that had Fabio hard and leaking already, and they hadn’t even done anything yet. There was a strained deliberation to it, though, as if this kiss, this clutch at Fabio’s hipbones, this furtive thrust against him were things hard won and far from certain. Lukas was touching him as if each move cost something, and Lukas was determined to break the bank if need be.

Fabio was familiar with the mechanics of _fake it till you make it_. It wasn’t as if he’d never posed as more self-confident than he really felt, had never stared down some asshole who had a problem with who he was, never laughed in the face of something that scared him; but that was different, even he knew that. That was bravado, and this was… well, courage, he supposed. The real deal, where to do something was terrifying beyond belief but to do nothing would be somehow worse so you just – took a plunge, and hoped it wouldn’t fuck you over.

He wanted, badly, to reward that courage, to show that it was worth it. That _he_ was worth it, even though he appeared to be having a highly uncharacteristic case of the jitters. The trouble was he wasn’t sure what to reward it with. The obvious came to mind, but clearly in the circumstances the obvious itself involved something of a minefield.

He went with offering more of what seemed safe. They had been making out for a while now, and they were great kisses, fantastic even, deep and hungry, Lukas’s tongue thrusting in his mouth as if he was trying to fuck him with it. Fabio let him take the lead, let him have his mouth and tried to put whatever reassurance he had to offer into the kisses, to make them say, _You’re safe here_ and _This is enough, if you want it to be_ , and _We’re in this together._  
  
Lukas was moving against him restlessly, though, his hands slipping from Fabio’s hips to grab at his ass, and the too-rough friction of his jean-clad leg against Fabio’s dick was driving him a little crazy. It was difficult to be all noble when the guy you were trying to give space to settled right into that space and started humping you.

He pulled his mouth away from Lukas’s for long enough to fumble for the top button of the jeans. “Can these come off?”

Lukas grew still, breathing hard, his forehead pressed against Fabio’s. It was another one of those loaded pauses that Fabio had come to recognise. He waited it out, idly smoothing his thumb across the inch of bare stomach between Lukas’s tank top and those very inconvenient jeans.

He wasn’t stupid. After that time at the club, he’d gone home and actually done some googling. He’d learned a few new words and read about some scary-sounding procedures that bordered on Star Trek levels of medically advanced. It had been eye-opening and more than a little intimidating. But none of that very theoretical information would help him with the very practical reality of being finally here with a guy he’d been dying to touch, a guy for whom touching was clearly complicated, a far cry from the casual fun Fabio was used to.

It made him feel weirdly protective and worried about pushing too hard, but set against that worry was a strange instinct that prompted him to _keep_ pushing, at least a little. To show Lukas that complicated was okay, that Fabio was up for it. That on some level, _not_ making a big deal out of asking a cute boy to take his pants off because you were really fucking into him was important too.

Lukas abruptly rolled off the bed and stood. For an awful second, Fabio thought he’d fucked things up. He remembered to breathe when Lukas reached for his zipper but stopped there, hesitating. “This is weird,” he said, with a self-conscious laugh. Fabio almost agreed, but that would leave them both trapped in an endlessly perpetuating circle of self-acknowledged weirdness and he wanted them to get off sometime before next Christmas, preferably.

So he said instead, “Not really, man. I just don’t want denim burn on my dick.” He curled a hand around his erection and gave himself a few slow, firm pulls, more to take the edge off than ramp himself up.

Lukas swallowed, following the motion of his hand. He shoved his jeans down, kicking them off his feet but then lingering at the foot of the bed, in dark green boxers and his tank top. The boxers were short enough to show off his pale, muscled thighs. Somehow not having the usual things to ogle seemed to have given Fabio a new appreciation for the less obvious places: the width of Lukas’s shoulders, those legs that went on for miles. There was a sheen of sweat around his collar bones that Fabio wanted to lick off.

“I’m not taking off more,” Lukas stated abruptly, almost belligerently. 

“What?” Fabio asked, then had to clear his throat, because it came out embarrassingly husky. “I mean, okay?”

He hadn’t meant it as a question, but Lukas shrugged, gesturing self-consciously at his chest. “After they come off, maybe, but… not now.”

“Okay.” Fabio was trying to figure out what the fuck to say. “Uhm… they’re coming off?” 

“Yeah. In ten weeks.” Lukas inhaled deeply. “Can’t wait,” he added fervently.

“Okay.” Fuck, there had to be something better to say. _Good for you_ sounded patronising, _holy shit_ too spazzy. He wanted to say something supportive, something that would let Lukas know he wanted to stick around, to be there when that shirt finally came off. 

“Cool.” _Cool?_ God, what was wrong with him? He cleared his throat and settled for a grin and an appreciative once-over. “You’re hot now too, though.”

Lukas made a face. He’d instinctively settled into the slouch that Fabio knew so well by now, shoulders dropping forward to disguise his chest. “I don’t like looking at myself.”

“I like looking at you.”

Clearly it was the wrong response. Lukas’s lips curled in a grimace and his shoulders tensed even more. He was still not moving closer.

Fabio took a deep breath, told his lust-muddled brain to pull itself the fuck together, and decided if Lukas could be brave, so could he. 

“Look, man, this is as new to me as it is to you. I don’t care what we do, really. I just wanna get off with you. Just, like… let me know what you want, or what’s off limits, and we’ll figure out the rest, okay?”

Lukas was watching him with a small frown between his brows and so much longing in his eyes it was painful to see. He nodded hesitantly. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Fabio repeated, lamely, and reached out to grab his hand. He gave it a light tug. “Besides. You can just look at me instead.”

Lukas’s eyes narrowed, although the corners of his mouth twitched a bit. “Why, ‘cause you’re so hot?”

Fabio had meant it to be reassuring but if a bit of macho posing might diffuse the tension, well, never let it be said that Fabio Cozzarelli could not pose. “Well, yeah.” At Lukas’s raised eyebrows, he rolled back onto one elbow, stretched out and gestured down the length of his body with the other hand in a sweeping arc of _voila_. “I mean, hello?” 

Lukas blinked at him, mouth dropping slightly open. For a moment, Fabio was not at all sure he wasn’t three seconds away from being kicked out, buck-naked with a hard-on. Then, to Fabio’s relief, Lukas burst into a laugh and whacked him in the face with the spare pillow. Fabio yelped and dove for the covers.

“You are the most conceited, vain, unbelievably narcissistic asshole I have ever met,” Lukas informed him, still laughing, in between further pillow attacks. 

Fabio sputtered, fending off the pillow, trying to decide whether to be affronted. But Lukas’s eyes were sparkling now, the grim, self-conscious bitterness gone from his face, and the insults sounded weirdly fond, so Fabio considered it a win. 

“Hey.” He caught the pillow on the next whack, wrestled it out of Lukas’s hands and tossed it across the room. “Guess you’re really into narcissistic assholes, then. That must suck.” He grabbed Lukas by the upper arms and hauled him back where he belonged, against his body, skin to mostly skin.

Still chuckling, Lukas turned his head to meet his lips. “I’m strangely okay with it.”

There was more kissing after that. Fabio was fast coming to realise that his long-standing low opinion of prolonged make-out sessions was possibly made of bullshit, or maybe he’d simply been kissing the wrong dudes. There was no other explanation for why the slide of Lukas’s lips against his, contrasted with the scrape of stubble, should be so damn intoxicating.

They’d kicked off the covers but the heat of the afternoon sun was lingering oppressively, the air still and heavy in the small room, and their bodies grew slick with sweat. Fabio could smell and taste Lukas, salt and a faint hint of spicy soap, and it turned him on even more. He licked up his neck and sucked on the thin skin there, relishing the way Lukas moaned faintly in response.

He was having some problems with his hands. His brain was aware there were areas that were clearly off-limits. It wasn’t rocket science; Lukas’s body language was pretty clear, what with the hunched shoulders and the avoidance of groin-to-groin contact. Also, the no-go zones were helpfully covered in underwear. Still, it was hard to keep track when all his blood seemed to have deserted his brain and headed south, and his fingers kept straying against tank top straps, elastic, the stiff edge of a binder.

He could tell he was not the only one having issues. Lukas’s kisses had moved from hungry exploration to something more urgent still. He was pushing Fabio into the mattress, kissing him as if he was trying to swallow him whole. The hint of aggression was more than welcome but it was also frustrating as hell, especially when his cock was only getting occasional attention – furtive touches that didn’t last long enough and didn’t go far enough and drove him absolutely mindless with wanting.

When Lukas’s hand went there for the fourth time, just to dart away again after one torturous, loose-fisted slide, Fabio broke the kiss and pushed at Lukas’s shoulder to get some air. 

“Okay, so what do you wanna do?” he gasped. Lukas froze against him; possibly it had come out a little more demanding than Fabio had intended. He cursed himself out mentally and added quickly, “Or not do, I mean, if-”

“You can’t fuck me.” Lukas blurted it sharply while Fabio was still talking; spat it, really, as if it had been building in his mouth until it nearly choked him. His eyes flickered restlessly around the room, picking up anything but Fabio’s gaze. “Not the – not the front.” His mouth twisted on that last bit, his face shuttering, as if he’d never had to say anything more distasteful than that single word, _front_. 

There was a story behind that, obviously, something so thick with unhappiness that Fabio could almost taste it. But he could also sense that trying to draw out the details would just settle Lukas deeper into that mood, when all he wanted was to smooth the wary, self-loathing look off his face. 

So instead, he ran his hand up Lukas’s bare arm to palm his shoulder and then his nape, trying to coax the tension from the muscles there.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man.” He said it lightly, letting a smile warm his voice. He sat up so he could kiss Lukas’s shoulder, then his neck, with a light scrape of teeth that had Lukas shivering and tilting slightly into him, relaxing a bit. When Fabio reached his ear, he murmured, on a gust of warm breath, “So what about anal?”

Lukas didn’t freeze or splutter, as Fabio had half expected. He did sit back a bit, so he could look him in the eye. His face had softened somewhat, though he still did not look exactly relaxed. 

“I don’t know. Maybe?” He swallowed. “Not today, though. I’m not – I haven’t done that.”

“That’s fine.” Fabio grinned. “Anyway, I meant my ass, not yours, you dork.”

Lukas blinked at him with a gobsmacked expression that was, frankly, so adorable that Fabio leaned in to kiss him. Lukas kissed back, but he was clearly distracted. 

“What?” Fabio challenged.

“I thought you topped.” Lukas had gone bright red, which was also adorable. _Get a fucking grip, man_ , Fabio told himself. This was beyond crush territory. But then it had been for a while.

He shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “I’m versatile. Why limit myself, you know?” The slight shift put his body once more on display; even more so when he deliberately let his legs slide open. Lukas’s eyes dropped to his hard, bobbing cock, as Fabio had intended. His hazel eyes darkened, his tongue darting out to swipe across his lip. 

He looked… intrigued. A sharp burst of arousal shot through Fabio at the sight of his dilated pupils, his open mouth. 

Fabio’s hand was resting on his thigh. He moved it down, slowly, deliberately bypassing his aching cock. Hitched his hips a bit. Let one finger draw a slow, almost casual circle around his rim. Pushed, just slightly. Hissed at the burn.

Lukas drew in a sharp breath. His gaze was glued to the small, circling motion of Fabio’s finger, his own hands twitching towards him in instinctive response.

“Lukas.” He waited until Lukas had dragged his eyes up to his face and did his best to speak without panting.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Lukas swallowed convulsively but there was no hesitation when he responded. “Yeah. I don’t have a strap-on, though. Do you want a dildo or-”

Fabio shook his head. He would never last. “Save it for next time. You’ve got fingers, haven’t you?” He smiled at Lukas’s expression, the hot lust in his gaze. “Well, get them the fuck in me before my balls explode.”

Lukas did indeed have fingers, and he knew how to use them. There was no teasing this time, either; just a quick application of lube and then, finally, those long fingers working him open, taking him carefully apart. Fabio moaned his appreciation when a third finger joined the first two, filling him just right. Lukas was kneeling between his legs, watching his face intently. “Okay?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He underlined it by pulling his legs up and held his knees open for better access. Lukas sucked in a sharp breath, staring at his shameless display with an intent, greedy expression on his face that had Fabio lifting his hips a little more. 

Then he shifted suddenly, his head dropping down to swallow Fabio’s cock.

Fabio swore loudly, taken by surprise by the sudden heat of Lukas’s mouth. When Lukas’s lips tightened and _sucked_ , the dual sensation of getting blown and having his prostate stimulated nearly pushed him over the edge; he had to grab his balls and tug hard enough to stave off orgasm.

“ _Porca miseria_ ,” he panted, because his brain had apparently forgotten how to language. Lukas was bobbing his head, curling his tongue around the crown. His technique was a little sloppy, which was just as well because Fabio really couldn’t handle finesse right now. He tried to hold himself still, to just let Lukas get comfortable with it, but when Lukas pulled at his hips he took the hint and let them move the way they wanted, bucking up into Lukas’s mouth, then down on the impaling fingers. For a while he just let himself ride the wave of it, the almost too-intense pleasure of fucking Lukas’s mouth while getting his ass finger-fucked.

Eventually it got too much. He tugged at Lukas’s hair until he pulled off, staring up at Fabio with glazed, half-lidded eyes.

“What? Not good?”

Fabio chortled. “Too good. Wanna last a bit longer.” He pushed back Lukas light-brown fringe, damp with sweat. “C’mere, _caro mio_ ,” he demanded hoarsely. “Give me your mouth.”

He let out an involuntary pleased noise as Lukas’s body settled on top of his. The added weight was perfect. It anchored him and heightened the sensation of Lukas’s fingers inside him, moving faster now, pushing deeper. They were kissing messily, neither of them getting enough air. He could taste his own pre-come in Lukas’s mouth.

Lukas’s thigh was tense where it was pressed into the back of Fabio’s own, the muscle clenched hard. His free hand was moving rapidly between his own legs.

Fabio groaned, thrusting his hips. “You jerking yourself off?” he demanded breathlessly.

Then froze. Stared up into Lukas’s sweat-sheened face, unsure if he’d just monumentally fucked up. The words had just burst out as they came to mind, sparked by the image of Lukas moving against him, the reality of the hard motion and slick sounds; but there was another reality at play here, and he didn’t know if he had just pointed that out in the worst way.

Lukas had paused, too, but only for a moment. Something undefinable flickered briefly across his face, but then he narrowed his eyes and set his chin in a way that Fabio was coming to recognise and really, really like.

Lukas’s hand, briefly stilled, resumed its movement. So did his hips.

“Yeah.” There was something defiant about the one-word answer, a challenge both blatant and complicated. Fabio grinned and took it up.

“That’s fucking hot,” he panted, then let out a loud moan at the sudden wicked twist of the fingers inside him, rubbing his prostate with what felt like a whole lot of newfound confidence. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah, right there. So good. Don’t stop.” He was babbling and didn’t care. His eyes kept trying to drop shut but he forced them open, wanting to see everything: Lukas’s hand moving between his wide-spread legs, Lukas’s fingers disappearing inside him. His body moving fiercely, hips snapping in short, sharp thrusts. 

Above all, Lukas’s face: his pupils blown so wide they nearly swallowed that pretty marsh-gold green of his eyes, his lips swollen from sucking Fabio’s cock. 

“Gonna come,” Fabio gasped, trying to hold on, knowing it was useless. His dick was slippery and throbbing against his stomach, his balls drawing up tight. He let go one of his legs so he could grab himself, wanking fast and without finesse. “So close.”

Lukas swallowed, a convulsive motion that matched his rhythm. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” Fabio bit his lip, jerked himself harder. “Yeah, fuck, do it. Want you to come all over me. While you’re fucking me.” He shoved his hips down hard and caught, on the upwards arch of coming, the harsh moan off Lukas’s lips in a frantic, messy kiss; felt him shudder and twitch, and shove his fingers deep.

Fabio came so hard all the breath left his lungs, leaving him gasping after air while he was still jerking, his ass clenched around Lukas’s curled fingers, his dick shooting thick streaks of come all over Lukas’s chest and his own belly.

He came down slowly, his legs gone noodley and sprawling wide. Lukas, his head buried in Fabio’s neck, was rearranging awkwardly, pulling one hand free, the other still crushed beneath Fabio’s limp body. Fabio appreciated, in a floaty, absent-minded way, how he removed his fingers without hurry, one by one, leaving the last one in place to rub slow, soothing circles over Fabio’s oversensitive rim before withdrawing.

Lukas’s other hand was resting on his chest. His fingers were slick. So was the back of Fabio’s thigh, he realised. A renewed frisson of arousal rolled through him at the wet slide of it. He rode the lazy aftershock in a slow curl, pulled Lukas’s fingers into his mouth without thinking and swirled his tongue around them. 

Lukas stiffened for a moment. Fabio paused, but took his fingers out of his mouth only long enough to say exactly what was on his mind. “I like how your come tastes.”

Lukas stared at him for a long, conflicted moment. Then he leaned over with a groan that sounded almost pained, gripped Fabio’s face between his hands and kissed him hard.

Fabio, too shagged out to do much but lie there and be kissed, smiled into his mouth. “You've melted all my bones, _ragazzo bello_.” 

Lukas flopped back on top of him, nuzzling into his neck. “Who needs bones.”

“Mhmmm. True.” He carded his fingers through Lukas’s damp hair. Everything was extremely sticky and the air in the room wet enough for a swim. It was probably going to get gross very soon and he couldn’t believe how unbothered he was by it. 

Eventually Lukas wriggled off him and flopped onto the sheets next to him. Fabio turned his head so he could look at him, mussed hair and reddened mouth and all. In the evening sunlight streaking through the window, his eyes looked very green.

“Okay?” Lukas asked softly. It was a question Fabio usually rolled his eyes at, but apparently this guy was warping him in all sorts of new and exciting ways, because all he wanted was to smooth the tiny hint of anxiousness from Lukas’s face.

He reached out for Lukas’s hand, threading their fingers together in the tangled sheets. “Okay,” he said firmly, grinning, and knew from the slow glow of Lukas’s answering smile that this time, it was absolutely the best thing to say.


End file.
